In the Custody of the Dom (Hideaway Book 1) (4 page)

When the first flutterings of cramp began, she looked to him in alarm, almost in betrayal.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I know. Just try to breathe through it; it’s just the medicine doing its job.”

He spoke soft words of reassurance as the waves of cramp hit harder and harder, until she was keening softly with pain, and all she could think about was ridding herself of the solution. Her face and hands were cold and clammy, covered in a fine sheen of perspiration.

The dom moved back down between her legs. He held up a thick, tapered white tube that fed into a large, clear, heavy duty plastic bag with an ‘evidence’ label on it. She could see her name was already written on it, under some official-looking stamps.

“You’re going to expel into this,” he said. “The contents will be searched for smuggled items and tested for prohibited substances. The stool will then be analyzed for foreign germs and parasites.”

“No,” she moaned, her face contorting against the agonizing spasms in her bowels. This was beyond humiliating, beyond anything she’d done before. Her head was killing her, and she was having trouble thinking straight.

“Think of it this way, if you’re innocent, as you claim, this will help clear your name and get you out of here.”

“No, I won’t,” she said, fiercely.

“It’s the only way to get a clean sample.”

“No.”

He came up to stand by her side. “Sam, you have no choice,” he said, gently. “Unless you safeword.” He brushed the hair from her sweaty forehead, and rested his hand there for a moment, assessing her temperature. He frowned a little, then pried each eyelid open wide, checking her pupils. “It’ll help your headache, sweetheart.” He went back down to the end of the bed, and stood between her legs.

“I’m going to take the plug out now, and insert the rectal tube. You’re to hold onto the enema until I give you permission to expel. When I give you permission, you are not to resist in any way, do you understand? I want you to fill this bag. You’re not leaving this table until you do.”

“No! Let me go! Please, I can’t...”

Apparently he didn’t have faith in her ability to control herself either, because he took a big plastic apron from the cart, and put it on. He picked up the forbidding-looking tube and smeared lubricant all over it; so much that it dripped over his hand and onto the carpet. Then he stepped in between her legs.

“No, no, no – ” she chanted.

But his strong hands pushed between her buttocks, prying her open, and she began to panic as he tugged on the plug. She clamped down on it, and he raised his head to look at her.

“Sam, this has to come out. I could force it out, but that would really hurt, and I don’t want to injure you. T|ry to relax. I promise there’ll only be a second between this coming out and the tube going in.”

 She tried to do as he said. She couldn’t relax enough for the withdrawal to be completely painless, but it was possible. As soon as the plug slipped from her, there was a strong pressure at her anus, opening her wider than she had ever imagined possible. There was an obscene, wet squelching noise, and then the long, cool slide of the rectal tube’s insertion.

She cried out.

The mixture of pleasure in her anus and pain in her bowels was almost too much. She suffered a small, unsatisfying orgasm as the tube was mercilessly pushed up inside her, groaning in frustration as she fought the contractions. She felt the dom’s gloved fist pressing hard against her buttocks as he held the tube securely, all the way inside her.

“Sam, let go. Now. Let it all go, sweetheart.”

In front of him? No. She fought the restraints, sweat and tears soaking her face and back, the sheet squeaking beneath her. Her paper gown tore.
“Let me up!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” he said, with infuriating calmness. “You won’t make it. Let it go now.” He reached up between her legs and pressed firmly on her abdomen. She doubled over as her guts seized. A moment later, she heard the contents of her bowels spraying into the bag.

She groaned in pain, fury, and embarrassment, but above all,
relief
, sobbing silently as she violently and repeatedly expelled into the specimen bag. He murmured soothing words of comfort and praise, sometimes forcing her to answer a question to keep her grounded. Occasionally he insisted she turn this way or that as much as the straps allowed, as he palpated her abdomen, ensuring she held nothing back. Thanks to the bag, there was no mess and no smell, for which she was incredibly grateful.

As she turned towards him, she noticed a very pronounced bulge in his pants, and realised with a touch of wonder that this was a turn on for him as well, that he was erect for
her
, and was ignoring his own needs to take care of hers. She felt a little sorry for him, and wondered how uncomfortable he was. She wanted to open his pants, take him in her mouth, and give him release, too.

Finally, she lay quiescent on the table, utterly spent and more than a little stunned by what had just happened. The rectal tube was gently withdrawn, and the little gushes of fluid that followed quickly cleaned up. Another nozzle was inserted, and she made a noise of protest and frustration as the next dose filled her back passage.

“I know, I know,” he said. “This one’s much smaller. It’s just to make sure you’re all clean inside.”

He put a steadying hand on her backside as a stubby, thickly lubed plug spread her wide. Stretched as she was, it went in easily. Ten minutes later, another rectal tube attached to another evidence bag was inserted, and this time, when the cramps began, she didn’t resist, but filled it obediently. Let him think she’d given up.

“Good, Sam. That’s all done,” he said, carefully easing the tube from her. She could tell he was pleased with how well she’d submitted this time, and was surprised by how glad that made her. He wiped her backside and let her lie silently while he placed the bags she’d filled inside an innocuous-looking paper bag, and put them away behind a door. “Those will be collected by the lab,” he said.

Master Dan took the apron off, and picked a strange-looking object off the cart. It was a yellowish latex pacifier with an obscenely long teat. It was transparent, and she could see there was some orange liquid sloshing around inside. She licked her lips, already imagining how it would feel, knowing that he’d have to hold it for her.

“Okay,” he said, quietly, non-threateningly, as he approached the head of the table. “Open your mouth.”

She didn’t.

His tone changed instantly. “Sam, open your mouth. I won’t ask you again.”

Tears blurred her vision as she courted punishment, but didn’t budge.

“Sam,”
he said, warningly.

Her behavior right now, coupled with her lapses in etiquette, would be more than enough for many doms to begin dispensing punishment, but he was being very lenient with her. Perhaps he was giving her a pass on account of what she’d been through before she arrived. “What is it?”

His expression became thrillingly dark. “It’s what I’ve chosen to administer to you. You have to trust that it’s what you need.
Open your mouth.”

She didn’t. A tear spilled down her cheek, shocking her. Where had that come from?

“Okay. If that’s how you want it.” He moved to stand behind her head. One strong arm kept her head still, while the fingers of his other hand probed for a pressure point under her jaw. He found it unerringly, and the moment her mouth opened, the latex teat slid in all the way to the back of her throat, gagging her. He squeezed the pacifier, and a sweet liquid filled her mouth.

She spat it out, not caring what a bad idea that had to be.

He held her immobile and spoke into her ear in a low, firm voice. “Sam. You need to take this. I’m going to give you one last chance, and then this will be administered rectally. There’s nothing in here that will hurt you. It’s just some rehydration fluid that you need after the enemas. It’ll help your head, too. Come on, sweetheart, open up.”

The nipple pushed insistently at her lips, and she finally, grudgingly, allowed it access. The sweet fluid spurted in, and he massaged her throat, urging her to swallow it down, which she did.

He was right; after a few gulps, she did feel better, and once she realized it was just orange juice with a little something extra added, she even began to suckle willingly.

“Thirsty, huh?” he said, a touch of amusement in his voice.

She nodded.

“I thought so.” His hold eased up a little, feeling less like restraint and more like support now. He stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words as she drank, and the room gradually came back into focus.

When the liquid was all gone, she lay quietly as he pulled the teat from her mouth, and put it down. He stood over her prone body, looking at her appraisingly. “If I remove your restraints, do you promise to remain exactly where you are until I give you permission to move?”

She nodded. No way.

He kept looking at her for a moment, but then reached for her right wrist, and began unbuckling it. She lay still as he freed her left wrist, and then her legs. He lifted the drape on the instrument cart, and picked up an unusually long, thick thermometer with a bulbous tip.

Her sex clenched.

She yanked the catheter out with a sharp sting, and was off the table. The room spun violently, and she fell to her knees, but got to her feet and staggered to the door. Where she was going dressed only in a torn paper gown, who knew, but she didn’t care. She grabbed the handle and twisted it.

It was locked.

Master Dan was advancing on her.

Oh, shit. Now I’m in trouble.
She braced herself.
“Stop right there.”

He kept coming. “No, Sam,
you
stop right there. You’re severely dehydrated, and you could pass out and hit your head.”

“No, Sir.”

“Lie down right where you are, and spread your legs. It was very dangerous for you to pull the catheter out yourself, and I need to check that you haven’t done any damage.”

She backed up rapidly. “Stay away.”

He kept coming. “There’s nowhere to go.” His eyes bored into her. “Sam, your examination isn’t over. I’m going to have to call for backup if you won’t cooperate.”

Her body responded even as she backed into a corner. “We’re done here, Sir!”

It wasn’t her safeword, and they both knew it.

He stood there for a moment, and then sighed. “Very well.” He went to the wall by the door, and pressed a button. She heard nothing, but to her mortification, a few moments later, two doms entered. Like Master Dan, they were both tall and very muscular. They both wore black jeans and expensive-looking dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up. One of them had stubble. It suited him. The younger of the two was Native American. They looked from Master Dan to her defensive posture, taking the measure of the situation immediately.